Wright had built daringly and well against earthquakes: he designed the
Imperial to float like a flexible collection of barges on Tokyo's soft
mud. The floors were cantilevered on supports which carried them the
way waiters carry trays on one hand. To keep the center of gravity low,
the outer walls (double shells of brick poured solid with concrete)
tapered toward the top. All piping and wiring was laid free of the
construction in concretecovered trenches. An immense pool guarded the
building from the fires which usually follow Japanese quakes.

Said Wright proudly in 1932: "There may be more awful threat to human
happiness than earthquakeI do not know what it can be." He had not
counted on aerial bombardment.

Yet U.S. reporters who visited the hotel last week found that it had
stood up remarkably well. Some 400 incendiaries had gutted the south
wing, burning out 150 bedrooms. Also destroyed was the Imperial's fancy
Peacock Hall. The rest of the building was rubble-littered and damaged
but usable, and already put to housing U.S. brass hats. Outside, red
and white lilies bloomed in the pool.

Last week the hotel's management begged Wright (via Domei) to come back
and rebuild the gutted wing. Said Wright: let the Japs do it
themselves.